Who Is That Girl?: The WillowOz trilogy
by Natalie Williams
Summary: A trio of stories about the very early days of Willow and Oz.
1. Who Is That Girl?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I originally posted these stories in 1998, and most of the sites that had it are down now, so I put the whole thing together. DISCLAIMER: I donÕt own Oz, et al. I donÕt own anything, just the situation I put the characters in. Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and 20th Century Fox own the characters. I am getting paid for nothing, but it would be nice if I was!   
  
*****  
  
Oz had made up his mind. Tonight he was going to meet that girl. Or he was at least going to find out her name, or something about her. He only knew her as Òthat girl,Ó and that wasnÕt exactly a good start for a relationship.   
  
Tonight the Dingoes was playing the Bronze again, and he figured that girl would probably be there. Oz had been there last Friday to hang out, and the Friday before that to play, and she had been there both nights. Hopefully sheÕd be there today, too. Actually, he had tried to approach her last week, but she was there with some tall, dark-haired guy. Oz wasn't sure if that was her boyfriend or what, and just in case, he didnÕt want to step in where he wasnÕt welcome. Not that he wasnÕt used to stepping in where he wasnÕt welcome, but he wanted to start off on the right foot with her. Messing with a boyfriend wasnÕt that right foot.   
  
He had three hours to accomplish what he had set out to do. They got there to set up at seven, but they had to be gone at ten, way before the Bronze was even set to close. That was what happened when your drummer got grounded. Of course, only this band would even think about starting off with three hours of music that had been heard only two weeks before. He was lucky to have as much time as he did. Oz would have stuck around just in case she showed up late, but of course, he had the van and he had to spend his night driving people home. He had three hours and that was it. But tonight was the night. He had to meet her.   
  
As the first hour passed and the band played, Oz began to grow slightly discouraged. It was now eight oÕclock, and that girl hadnÕt shown up yet. Maybe heÕd been paying too much attention to the music to notice her come in. Yeah, right. None of them were paying too much attention to their music. That was why they had been sharping all night. This wasnÕt working.   
  
His concentration was split from the music for about another fifteen minutes or so. At about 8:15, they got another break. The prerecorded music started playing over the speakers, and Oz hopped off the stage to head off into the crowd. Again, maybe that girl had come in when he wasnÕt looking. He wasnÕt about to even think that she might not come. HeÕd set himself up for this. Stay optimistic.   
  
Oz wandered aimlessly through the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of red hair somewhere. There werenÕt many redheads in the place, and those who were had probably gone to a bottle for help for that. It didnÕt look like she was anywhere in the crowd on the first floor, and he had scanned the dance floor thoroughly while still onstage, so she couldnÕt be there.   
  
It hit just him then how ridiculous it was for him to be doing this. He was searching a crowded club full of teenagers during a ten-minute break on the slight chance that he might find and Òbump intoÓ certain girl that he could just as easily run into during school. Oz saw the lack of logic in this, then decided to check the upper level of the Bronze anyway.   
  
When he had gotten about halfway up the stairs, Oz glanced at the stage and saw Devon and the others back up there, getting ready to start playing again. Had it been ten minutes already? Well, he thought, time flies when youÕre being obsessive. This would have to wait for later, and he would have to complain about not getting longer breaks later on. Disappointed, he turned right back around and went back onto the stage.   
  
ÒAnd where did you go?Ó Devon asked as Oz slung the guitar over his shoulder.   
  
ÒAround,Ó he answered shortly. Like he was going to tell Devon about what he was doing. He wasnÕt going to deal with prying of any kind. Besides, if Devon wasnÕt able to find out that girlÕs name, what use was he?   
  
They continued to play, with Oz spending his breaks trying to find that girl somewhere on the premises. But by 9:45, he was pretty sure that girl wasnÕt going to show. She probably had something better to do, even though there was nothing to do in Sunnydale if you werenÕt at the Bronze. This was a stupid idea anyway. What was he thinking when he decided to do this? And why was he still dwelling on this when it was driving him crazy?   
  
After that last song they got their instruments and their equipment and got ready to leave. Okay, so tonight was a bust. But maybe they could arrange a gig for next week... That would be a definite possibility. As Oz was kneeling on the stage to put his guitar back in its case, he just happened to look up, and his heart completely stopped for a second.   
  
There she was.   
  
She was wearing a light blue sweater with jeans, and it was good to see her in normal clothes. He had already seen her in an Eskimo costume and wearing leather on Halloween, and it was good to see her casually dressed. She was coming back from the bar, trying to carry three drinks back to her table, walking slowly so she didnÕt spill anything. She put two of the glasses on the table and sipped the last one herself as she sat down in a chair just slightly facing away from where Oz was. She was alone. This was his chance.   
  
On impulse, he jumped off the stage to go talk to her. ÒHey, Oz, you want to help us here?Ó Devon yelled down.   
  
ÒNot particularly,Ó he called over his shoulder.   
  
Were his palms sweating? That wasnÕt supposed to happen. He couldnÕt get nervous about this. He wiped his hands on his jeans as he walked over to the table, stopping about twenty feet away from her. He wasnÕt going any further just yet.   
  
She was with the possible boyfriend and a girl, a blond, who were trying to get her onto the dance floor. Each of them had one of her hands and they tried to pull her up from her chair, which she was trying desperately to stay in. ÒIÕm not going out there,Ó she said with a laugh. ÒIÕm serious. No way.Ó   
  
The blond sighed and let go, the guy following her lead. ÒFine,Ó she said with mock indignation. ÒWe donÕt need you.Ó She linked arms with the guy, whose face immediately brightened. ÒCome on.Ó   
  
ÒNote my relief,Ó she said as they left, but she was smiling.   
  
Her friends went back to the dance floor, in clear sight, and Oz started back on his way. He was now behind her, at armÕs length. He stopped, took a deep breath and reached out his arm to tap her on the shoulder-   
  
ÒFine,Ó she muttered with a sigh, and got up to go join her friends before Oz even had the chance to make a move. So close!   
  
ÒOz!Ó Devon said from a few feet away. He was annoyed, but Oz didnÕt care. After all, who had the keys? ÒWe finished closing up without you. Ready to go?Ó   
  
ÒRaring,Ó he grumbled, not looking forward to going. Five more minutes, the song would be over, and he would have another chance. He waved Devon off, watching that girl with her friends, looking uncomfortable, but ultimately perfect as she swayed a little, her personal way of dancing. She had to be the most flawless person on the face of this planet.   
  
ÒWho is that girl?Ó he whispered with a smile, then turned to go back to his van. 


	2. Like at First Sight

ÒCanape?Ó   
  
The two looked over at each other and their eyes met for a brief second. She didnÕt answer right away, and he broke the gaze first. He nodded as he put the tray down on the coffee table in front of them. ÒIÕm beginning to think IÕm getting addicted to these things,Ó he said.   
  
She looked at it quizzically. ÒWhatÕs in it?Ó she asked.   
  
He glanced back at the tray, then shrugged, looking back at her. ÒIÕm not sure, really. It sounds French, though. I know this part is a cracker. And IÕm not sure what this is. Probably pate or something to make the cracker look presentable. Because if all you had was a cracker, then people could just go to the nearest corner store and pick up a box of Ritz or Saltines or something, and then what do you have? A cracker. But cracker or not, itÕs good.Ó Oh, wow, was he rambling. Maybe if he stopped talking so much and give her a chance to say something.   
  
She nodded and started looking around. Strange, she never would have thought that this strange-looking room was actually part of the school. It still seemed incredibly X-Files to her.   
  
ÒOh, IÕm Oz,Ó he said suddenly, in an attempt to make conversation. ÒIntroductions help.Ó   
  
ÒIÕm Willow,Ó she said with a little smile. ÒSo... Um, any idea why weÕre here?Ó   
  
ÒBesides to meet with this McCarthy guy?Ó Oz said. ÒNope. IÕm figuring maybe we stepped into a Twilight Zone episode, but I could be wrong.Ó   
  
Willow giggled. ÒThatÕs what IÕve been thinking.Ó   
  
ÒCool. IÕd say brilliant minds think alike, but IÕm not all that brilliant and I donÕt know you well enough to say that.Ó He paused, wondering how to bring this up to her. ÒYou know, I think IÕve seen you around somewhere. You look familiar.Ó   
  
ÒReally?Ó Willow said, flattered that someone would remember her. SheÕd never seen herself as a person easily remembered.   
  
ÒYeah. The World Cultures Dance thingie. You were an Eskimo, right?Ó He didnÕt want her to know that heÕd been trying just to bump into her, but at least she would know that he knew she was there.   
  
ÒOh my God,Ó she said with a surprised gasp, amazed that she had been noticed among the scantily-clad likes of Cordelia. ÒYeah, I was. I, um, I donÕt think I saw you there.Ó   
  
ÒI was playing in the band. The Dingoes.Ó   
  
Her eyebrows shot up. ÒThe Dingoes?Ó   
  
ÒThe band. ThatÕs our name. Dingoes Ate My Baby.Ó   
  
She recognized that. ÒFrom that Seinfeld episode?Ó   
  
ÒThatÕs what they tell me,Ó Oz said. ÒFor the longest time I thought we took it from that episode of the Tick.Ó   
  
Willow turned herself on an angle so that she was almost completely facing him. ÒI think I saw that one. So what do you play?Ó   
  
ÒLead guitar. Back-up vocals when IÕm needed.Ó Was this some kind of interest she had in his activities? This was a plus...   
  
ÒSo youÕre in the same band as Devon?Ó   
  
ÒYeah. Why? You know Devon?Ó   
  
ÒWell, not really. IÕm kind of a... a frie- no, not really a friend,Ó she stammered, not sure what to say. She was already feeling a rush of heat rise to her cheeks in embarrassment. Oh, God! She was back to making those vowel sounds again! ÒIÕm an, um... an acquaintance of Cordelia, and she was talking for a while about how she was dating a guy in a band. I remember they were playing that night,Ó she said. ÒBut you would know. You were there, werenÕt you?Ó   
  
ÒFrom what I remember, yeah,Ó Oz said.   
  
For the next minute, the conversation died down, and there was silence. ÒSo youÕre a computer person, huh?Ó said Willow.   
  
Oz shrugged. ÒNot really. Well, kind of. Depends on how you look at it. I mean, I battled a horrible online addiction for quite a while. An intervention was threatened and everything. Now IÕm just a closet Internet geek. I guess some useful computer stuff just seeped in through osmosis. Basically, though, IÕm pretty clueless. But you can get into that computer nerd thing when you donÕt want anyone to bother you. IÕll go into the lab and look like IÕm doing work when I just play games or something. You?Ó He decided then that he had to shut up. He usually didnÕt talk this much, just when he got nervous. And he never had anything to be nervous about. Until now.   
  
ÒIÕm just an addict,Ó she admitted. ÒItÕs not like I have anything better to do.Ó This wasnÕt mentioning that most of the time she was on the computer, she was looking for information on the supernatural. But Oz didnÕt have to know that.   
  
ÒCan you hack?Ó   
  
ÒYeah,Ó Willow said, almost shyly. Why was she admitting this? Rule number one of any kind of illegal activity: DonÕt tell anyone else what youÕre doing! ÒThatÕs probably not something I should say out loud, is it?Ó   
  
ÒDonÕt worry,Ó he said, waving dismissively. ÒItÕs not like IÕm gonna tell. Besides, itÕs probably the reason they brought you here.Ó   
  
Hm. ÒI didnÕt think about that.Ó   
  
ÒWhat I want to know is how they found me,Ó Oz said. ÒI wouldnÕt even know where to start with that hacking stuff. But like I said, itÕs like the Twilight Zone and these guys have probably been following us for months.Ó   
  
ÒThey told me they had been tracking me for a while,Ó Willow said.   
  
ÒSo I was right. Cool. Did you not get your test back, either?Ó   
  
ÒNo. But I donÕt know if the test was irrelevant, why did they have us take it?Ó   
  
ÒBusy work?Ó   
  
She smiled. ÒSo, this Twilight Zone episode you were talking about... What would be the point?Ó   
  
This immediately got Oz to smile. ÒI have a theory about that.Ó   
  
ÒReally?Ó   
  
ÒWell, IÕve been bored. Do you want to hear it?Ó   
  
ÒShoot.Ó   
  
ÒOkay. Maybe this is all part of a diabolical plan to have us help the worldÕs computer corporations by somehow forcing us both to spend the rest of our life inside a modem.Ó   
  
For a moment Willow just looked at him, her eyebrows raised, and Oz wondered whether that was the wrong thing to say to her. Then the corners of her mouth turned up a little and he could tell that she was trying not to laugh at the very idea of it. ÒCool,Ó he said. ÒThat didnÕt completely bomb.Ó   
  
At that point one of the men in business suits that had brought both of them came back into the little enclosed room. ÒMr. McCarthy is on his way. He should be here in a matter of minutes,Ó he told them. ÒIs there anything you need?Ó   
  
ÒSomething to wash down all the canape?Ó Oz suggested.   
  
The man nodded, then left again. The two looked at it each other. ÒReady to be propositioned by a huge high-paying computer software place?Ó Oz asked her.   
  
Willow nodded. ÒWhy not?Ó Then she reached for a canape. 


	3. The Longest Night

It felt like an eternity, but when Willow looked over at her digital alarm clock, she saw that she had only been lying in bed for about twenty minutes. She already knew that this was not going to be a good night for her. She wasnÕt getting to sleep any time soon, that was for sure. As long as she could stop thinking...   
  
Willow rolled from her side onto her back and sighed. This was just unbelievable. Things like this should only happen to actors in bad horror movies, not to her.   
  
The guy she liked was a werewolf.   
  
Just her luck. Who else could this happen to but her? Well, despite the fact that Buffy and Xander had both dated some kind of creature... This was the second time she was faced with her boyfriend being something other than what she thought, and she didnÕt like this trend. But she was sitting right on top of the Hellmouth, after all. The center of mystical convergence. That was the reason this was happening. Normal things did not occur here. It wasnÕt like it was her fault or anything.   
  
No, it wasnÕt her fault and she knew that. She didnÕt blame herself for anything that happened here. But where did this leave her now? Willow really did like Oz- a lot- and she actually felt something for him that she had only before felt for Xander. Oz made her feel special, and he didnÕt ignore her, like Xander sometimes did.   
  
Then she had to ask herself the big question. Was she going to be able to handle dating a werewolf?   
  
Buffy had been able to handle dating Angel, but look how that one had turned out. Now he was sending her ÒpresentsÓ in the form of dead friends, a fact that did not rest well with Willow. Teresa was the first, but who was next? She dismissed the thought. That was another worry altogether. This one was about Oz. She could deal with the Angel situation later, like tomorrow.   
  
There were differences between the suddenly-canceled romance between Buffy and Angel, and WillowÕs potential relationship with Oz. For one, Angel was a vampire all the time, and they couldnÕt change that. Oz was only a werewolf for a few days out of the month, and only at night. Plus, he could be restrained. HeÕd had those chains out, so he was willing to lock himself up. Besides, Giles had assured her that as long as he didnÕt scratch or bite her, that she would be all right.   
  
For a brief moment, WillowÕs head cleared of these horrid thoughts and it was a good moment. Maybe she could actually stop thinking and get some sleep tonight. But as soon as she closed her eyes, she remembered him standing over her back in the forest, having absolutely no recognition for who she was, or what she meant to him in his human state-   
  
What did she mean to him in his human state? Oz had been extremely standoffish to her the last few days, ever since they had gone to see that movie. She doubted that it had anything to do with him being a carnivorous creature of the night. At least not yet.   
  
He had warned her to get out of the house when she came over, though. But she just had to get it all out and tell him what was on her mind. Now that she thought about it, that probably wasnÕt the smartest move she had ever made, but at least now she knew the truth. He did want to protect her. But would he have ever told her his secret? God, why was he so hard to figure out?   
  
Willow sat up in bed and let out a deep sigh, running her fingers through her hair. She was only seventeen, give or take a month or two, and she had to make a decision on whether or not it was worth her sanity to date a guy who mauled and ate people on a regular basis. Although to be truthful, he had never killed any people, just some animals.   
  
ÒOh no,Ó Willow gasped. They had found all those poor little bunnies and... It had been Oz that did that? But actually, it wasnÕt really Oz who did it. Was it?   
  
The gasp turned into a groan and she plopped back onto her pillow. This was not going to be easy. She looked back at the clock. Buffy had told her that she was welcome to call at any time tonight if she needed to talk, but she could guarantee that Buffy was probably out slaying, even thought it was pretty late. She was on her own for now. She had to get through this, and she didnÕt want to bring everything sheÕd been thinking up to Buffy, especially the comparisons to Angel. She could do this. She kind of had to.   
  
It wasnÕt really OzÕs fault that he was like this, was it? He had never asked to be turned into a werewolf. He was apparently pretty freaked out about it, judging from what she had seen when he backed away from her tonight in the library. It wasnÕt like he still wasnÕt Oz. That was why she had tried to convince Giles and Buffy that he didnÕt mean to be a werewolf. And then she shot him with a tranquilizer.   
  
Oh, yeah. That.   
  
Willow hated the thought of shooting Oz, even though it was harmless to him. Just the thought that she had pointed something at him, pulled the trigger and shot him... She was having a lot of bad thoughts tonight. What if Oz remembered that, and he couldnÕt forgive her for that? SheÕd also hit him with a garbage can lid... Never mind that he had basically tried to kill her.   
  
What was this? Was she actually having these thoughts? This was just so inconceivable... She needed to go to sleep. If she slept, she wouldnÕt have these thoughts anymore.   
  
When she wasnÕt able to stand laying in the same place anymore, Willow got up and went downstairs to her kitchen. Her mom would always tell her to try chamomile tea, but caffeine of any kind didnÕt work well with her system. It would just make her more jumpy.   
  
She got a glass from the cabinet and poured herself a glass of ice water from the refrigerator. Maybe it wouldnÕt help her get to sleep, but she couldnÕt just sit in bed and do nothing but think anymore. She needed to move around a little. After downing the water, she went back up to her bedroom.   
  
She started to get into bed, then noticed the fish tank on the table. ÒI forgot to feed you today, didnÕt I?Ó she said. Willow took the container of fish food from next to the tank and sprinkled some in. The fish went right for it. She watched them for a minute. ÒI bet you donÕt stay up late dealing with stuff like this,Ó Willow murmured. ÒLucky fish.Ó   
  
What was scary was that she was almost jealous of those fish now, but that might have been the lack of sleep talking. Time to go back to her bed and try again to get to sleep. The problem was that Willow wasnÕt even tired anymore, which she knew was a bad sign. SheÕd be going to school with bags under her eyes tomorrow...   
  
Tomorrow was not going to be fun. If she hadnÕt seriously injured Oz by shooting him, she would have to see him at school. And then what? What was she going to say to him? /iOh, IÕm really sorry for shooting you last night. And as for you trying to kill me, donÕt worry. I forgive you for it. /i  
  
Which brought a not-so-horrible thought to her mind. Did she forgive him?   
  
That one small idea brought a smile to her face for the first time tonight. What was there really to forgive? Technically, it really wasnÕt Oz that had tried to kill her. He was still the same sweet, wisecracking guy still working on that diminished ninth chord. And they could deal with not seeing each other for three nights a month. At least she knew she could. Willow wasnÕt about to wonder what Oz thought about it. As of now he could still be chained up in his basement or something.   
  
She actually did feel better. And she almost felt tired. She knew how she felt about this situation, about her and Oz. Now to see how Oz felt about it. But it was out of her hands now. The rest was up to him.   
  
Willow got into bed, pulled the covers over her and closed her eyes, and was asleep in under a minute. 


End file.
